


Heliotrope and Puce

by deadcellredux



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bad Taste, F/F, Fashion & Couture, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Good Taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1660523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadcellredux/pseuds/deadcellredux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compared with the popular styles of your last sweep, it’s positively atrocious. To Terezi, however, you realize that it must be nothing short of delicious, and the fact that <i>how tasty she can make you</i> is her only concern makes your bloodpusher thump just a tiny bit faster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heliotrope and Puce

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Bonus Round 1; prompt was "Remember when Terezi made an atrociously colorful sweater for Kanaya?"

“Do you like it?” Terezi asks you. The question is earnest, and for three or four awkward seconds you are very, _very_ thankful that she cannot see your face, because your first reaction is, most likely, a tad unfavorable.

“It’s lovely,” you respond, and crook your mouth up into a smile. Despite the fact that the colors clash terribly, you really, truly mean it, if not for the most currently obvious of reasons. You run your fingertips over the fabric before taking the garment from Terezi’s hands. “I am very much enjoying the unique composition you present.”

“Excellent!” Terezi cries, and makes a triumphant gesture. “The flavor combinations were quite favorable. I’m so very glad that they translated into such a pleasant gift! Will you try it on?”

The “flavor combinations”, as Terezi puts it, are comprised of a rather unflattering patchwork of heliotrope and puce, crossed with alternating squares of lime and cerulean. Compared with the popular styles of your last sweep, it’s positively atrocious. To Terezi, however, you realize that it must be nothing short of delicious, and the fact that _how tasty she can make you_ is her only concern makes your bloodpusher thump just a tiny bit faster.

“Of course I will,” you say, because despite your differing tastes (and Terezi’s tastes are, in fact, quite literal), you can’t deny the fact that you are flushed for her, and thus such discrepancies in preference hold very little weight. You pull the garment on, over one shoulder, but when you try to fit it over your ‘pan, you feel the tug of Terezi’s fingers halting you.

“Wait,” she says, and the feel of her breath very, _very_ close to you makes you freeze and shiver. “Don’t mess up your hair.”

There’s a reason why Terezi is your matesprit.

She assists you in guiding the garment as her fingers trace over your perfectly styled coif, and the fabric settles soft against your skin. Terezi’s face is in the crook of your neck, now, sniffing you with audible gusto. You tense as her smiling, soft lips brush against your chin, and trail down to the sensitive curve where your neck meets your shoulder. She sighs against you, sounding quite pleased, and her fingers travel down to your waist, where she squeezes, and you can’t help but gasp. 

“Delicious,” she hums, “so very delicious. It fits you perfectly.”

“I supposed you’d say that now I’m good enough to eat,” you muse, and run your fingers gently through her hair.

“That’s a given,” she cackles, breath warm against your skin, “always.”


End file.
